The Haunting of Hermione Granger
by BookSmartBrilliance
Summary: After the final fight Hermione and Harry are trying to rebuild their lives without Ron. When strange, unexplainable things begin to happen, Hermione begins to suspect that Ron is responsible. Is Ron haunting his best friend? Or can she not let go?


**Title: The Haunting of Hermione Granger**

**Author: **Audrey (booksmartbrilliance@msn.com) 

**Rating: **PG 

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

**Summary: **After the final fight Hermione and Harry are trying to rebuild their lives without Ron.  When strange, unexplainable things begin to happen, Hermione begins to suspect that Ron is responsible.  Is Ron haunting his best friend?  Or is Hermione just unable to let go of the past?  Harry wants to help her through it, but will he be enough?

**A/N:  **I'm not going to apologize for yet another story…as it absolutely demanded to be started and completed.  This is my dark fic.  Okay, well as dark as I get, anyway. 

**EDIT**:  This fic has been changed in order to correctly follow canon through Book Five.  **WARNING**:  Spoilers for Book Five to be contained in this fic.

**Chapter One – The End**

"Avada Kedavra."

The words were whispered in the dimly lit passageway and were promptly followed by a dull thud and the clatter of a wand falling to the ground.

            Hermione Granger dropped to her knees, beside the fallen body and began searching frantically through pockets, both inside and out.  She tried to ignore the vacant eyes that were staring accusingly up at her.  She tried not to notice how the face, which she had thought hard and unfriendly in her childhood, had a soft quality about it in death.  She tried to push back the feeling of guilt, the sickness in her stomach, at the knowledge that she had just murdered someone with an unforgivable curse.

            Her fingers brushed across the piece of gold that she was searching for and she quickly scrambled to her feet.  She looked down at the body and fought back the tears that threatened to overcome her.  She would cry later, when Harry and Ron didn't need her so desperately.  When she had time to realize that in the fight for good, she had been forced to do the ultimate evil.

She made herself turn away from the body and run down the corridor, mentally following the map she had studied for hours on end.  All around her she could hear the sounds of people crying out, screaming and moaning.  She was gasping for breath and there was a painful stitch in her side as she finally rounded the last corner and came to a thick looking wooden door.  Her hands were shaking as she retrieved the piece of gold in the form of a key and stuck it in the lock.  She pushed the door open and peered into the darkness, her eyes hidden under the dark blue robe she wore.

            She was caught off guard as he threw himself at her, catching her around the waist and knocking her to the ground.  Shooting pain went through her skull as it connected with the stone floor. Her hood fell off and she found herself staring into the eyes of Ronald Weasley.

            His eyes went wide, and she was reminded of the way he had looked when she had hit Draco Malfoy in third year.  There was that same level of astonishment and shock, "Hermione?"  

            She nodded, dazed not only by the hit to the head, but by the sight of him.  She realized that a part of her had never expected to see him alive again.  He had been taken prisoner over six months ago, and though he was very valuable to the Ministry, not to mention Harry, there was the chance that Voldemort may have disposed of him just to send a message.  She was aware of the pounding of his heart as he lay on top of her, too surprised to move.

            "How did you…"

            "Pansy," she whispered, her voice nearing a breaking point.  "I had to…I had to get the key."

            He nodded and she saw understanding in his eyes.  He understood that she had done what she had to in order to get to him.  He rose to his feet and held his hand out to her.  "Thank you," he whispered.

            "We've got to hurry, Harry needs us," she said looking away from him.  

            Ron pursed his lips together and gave a grim nod of determination.  She led the way out of the dungeon, forcing herself to ignore the cries of the other prisoners…at least for now.  She kept looking over her shoulder to make sure that Ron was keeping up.  He looked weak and she had never seen him so thin, but he managed to match her pace.  

            After what seemed like an eternity she was aware that they were finally nearing the floor level of the abandoned mansion.  She slowed at the sound of voices.

            "Kill him.  Do you think that I have any need of him now?  He led me to your parents.  He got me reinstated.  He has served his purpose."

            "No!  Master, please!"    The second voice was pleading.  A broken voice that sent shivers down Hermione's spine even as she ran towards it.

            "He's not the one I'm here to kill," Harry's voice said.  "You're the one I want."

            Hermione stopped in the doorway to the large entrance hall and felt her heart stop in her chest at the sight that greeted her there.  She was dimly aware of Ron as he caught up and placed himself at her side.  Remus Lupin had a grim look on his tired face as he held Wormtail at wand point.  Even as he begged for his master to save him, she had no doubt that Wormtail's moments were numbered.

            Harry stood in the middle of the room, only feet away from the Dark Lord, his wand raised, his dark hair framing his intense green eyes.  Voldemort gave a soft chuckle as he too held out his wand.

            "They're all here now, aren't they?  All the people that mean the most to you, here to see you fail.  Well, the ones I allowed to live, anyway."

            "I won't fail," Harry said.  Hermione took a deep breath as his eyes strayed momentarily over her and Ron.  

            "Get him, Harry," Ron whispered beside her.

            Voldemort used his momentary lack of concentration and lunged towards him.  "Avada Kedavra."

            Harry was too quick for him, because he had only pretended to be distracted.  He yelled "Avada Kedavra" at the same time and Hermione saw two shots of light emanate from their wands and meet in the middle.   There was a blinding flash and then something unexpected happened, the light shot upwards as one and tore a hole into the roof above them, causing wood splinters to rain down on them.  The mansion began to shake and Hermione realized with horror that it was going to collapse on them, on all of them.  

            She stepped out of the doorway towards the room that held Harry, and Remus, and barely missed being hit by a large chunk of falling ceiling.  

            Harry was holding his wand steady with all his might, and she could see the green color emanating from his wand as it slowly pushed itself towards Voldemort.  They just needed a few seconds more.  

            "Hermione, watch out!" Ron cried pulling her back, just as a wooden beam smashed into the spot that she had been standing in.  

            Remus was dodging debris as he struggled to hold on to the sobbing Wormtail.  Obviously, it didn't occur to him to run for covere.  Hermione knew none of them would leave.  Not until this was finished.  Hermione looked over at Harry again and found that the green had almost reached Voldemort.  She searched vainly for a spell that would give them more time, but her mind came up blank.  The mansion creaked and then there was the sickening sound of crunching as it began to fall down around them.  Hermione looked up to see the entire ceiling rushing at her.  She tried to scream, but it was lost as Ron threw himself on top of her.  They landed hard, and there was the same blinding light, but this time more intense, as her head once again struck the stone floor, and then there was darkness.

* * * * *

            "Harry," said a low voice into the darkness.  "Harry."

            Harry's eyes flew open and it took him a moment to adjust to the dim light in the room.  He relaxed when he realized it was Remus who was gently shaking him awake.

            "I've come to relieve you for a bit," Remus said, looking down at him.

            Harry shook his head sleepily.  "I'm fine."

            "You're tired," Remus said, sternly.  "Harry, you haven't left her side in three days.  You need a break."

            "No," Harry said, "I'm not leaving her."

            Remus sighed and sat in a chair beside him.  "Did the doctor say anything?"

            "Nothing new," Harry said, his eyes traveling over the still form lying on the hospital bed.  Her chest moved up and down slowly, her pale skin seeming almost translucent in the dim light, the scar on her left arm from where Neville had broken a beaker and cut her sixth year would have been unnoticeable if he hadn't known where to look.  His eyes traveled up over her face, her soft mouth, her brown eyes, her usually wild hair lying in a limp and tangled heap…

            Her brown eyes?  Harry stood up and stared into the eyes that were now watching his every move.  He grabbed her hand, his heart beating wildly in his chest.  "Hermione?"

            She looked up at him, her face troubled, "Harry?"

            "Hermione!" Harry said breaking into a smile and squeezing her hand.  Remus hurried to the other side of the bed and looked down at her.

            "Where am I?" 

            "You're in the hospital," Harry said.  "There was an explosion and…well, you've been in a coma for over a week and a half."

            She blinked, "A coma?"

            Harry nodded.

            Hermione frowned and looked up at Harry anxiously, "Voldemort, is he…"

            "He's dead," Remus said.  "Harry made sure of that."

            Hermione relaxed into her pillows and smiled up at them.  She looked around the room.  "Where's Ron?"

            Harry felt like she had punched him in the stomach.  Remus shot him a sympathetic look and then looked sadly down at Hermione.  "Hermione, Ron's …"

            "… not coming today," Harry finished for him. 

Remus looked up at him his eyes dark with some indefinable emotion.

            "Oh?"  Hermione asked, looking disappointed.

            "He's on special assignment," Harry said.

            "By himself?"

            "Yes," Harry said, looking out the window.

            "Harry," Remus said, his voice low.

            "Remus," Harry said, cutting him off.  "I think Hermione could use some rest right now.  Maybe we should leave her alone for a little while."

            Hermione laughed and it was the most wonderful thing Harry had heard in days.  "Harry, I've been in a coma for a week, I think I've gotten quite enough rest."

            "Of course," Harry said, feeling his cheeks warm.  

            "Harry, can I talk to you in the hall for a minute," Remus said 

            Harry nodded and followed him to the door.  He looked over his shoulder and managed a small smile in Hermione's direction, "I'll be right back."

            He had barely shut the door and turned to face Remus when Remus said, "Harry, what do you think you're doing?"

            Harry sighed, "She's not ready."

            Remus eyes softened as he looked at the son of his best friend.  He looked much older than James had when he had been twenty years old, but then again James hadn't had to go through the same trials as Harry had.  

            "Harry, I know you're trying to protect her…but people are never ready for this.  She has to know.  The longer you wait the harder it's going to be to tell her."

            "I can't," Harry said, feeling his chest contract.  "I just can't."

            "You have to, Harry," Remus said, putting a hand on his shoulder.  "It's not right to lie to her, especially not about this.  And…you need her.  The only way that you two are going to get through this is if you can grieve for Ron together."

            Harry knew he was right.  After all, how long could he keep telling Hermione that Ron was on special assignment? One week?  Two?  A month?

            "It's just so hard," he heard himself whisper.

            "I know," Remus said.  "It's always hard at first, but it will get easier."

            "I don't want it to get easier," Harry snapped, feeling anger surging through him.  "I don't want it to be easy."

            "Well, you don't have to make it harder, do you?" Remus asked gently.   

            Harry felt the anger drain away instantly at the gentle words.  He sighed and turned back towards the door.  "Just give us a minute," he said without turning around.

            Remus nodded as he pushed the door open silently.  Hermione looked up at him and smiled.  "When can I go home?  Crookshanks must be beside himself without someone to look after him."

            Crookshanks?  Harry winced, he hadn't even thought about the cat in the last week and a half.  He'd had other things on his mind.

            "Soon," Harry said, standing beside her bed.  

            "I can't believe it," she said, looking up at him.  "He's dead.  He's really dead?"

            Harry stared at her, unable to speak.

            "Voldemort," she said in response to his blank look.  "We'll never have to be afraid of him again.  He'll never threaten you or me or Ron.  He's really gone.  It doesn't quite seem real, does it?  Nothing hanging over our heads, not having to toss and turn at night wondering if you two are alright…"

            "Hermione, Ron's dead."

            Hermione gave a short laugh, "No more sleepless nights, no more daring rescue missions, no more…"   She paused and her eyes narrowed.  "What?  What did you just say?"

            Harry felt the wall he had painstakingly built in his mind against the truth crumble with the look of confusion and panic on her face.  

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he whispered, surprised to find that there was a tear rolling down his cheek.  He hadn't been able to cry, not even when they had lowered the casket into the ground.  He felt the tear fall on his hand and roll off the side to melt into her blanket.

"Harry, that's not funny," Hermione said, her voice shaking slightly.  "Did he put you up to this?  Because it's not funny, not at all."

"No," Harry said taking a deep breath, "It's not a joke."  He wished it were.  He'd give anything to have Ron jump out of the closet and fall to the floor in a heap of laughter.

"No," Hermione whispered, shaking her head fervently.  "No…you said he was on assignment…"

"I'm sorry," Harry said taking her hands in his.  "I'm so sorry…I panicked, I …I didn't know how to tell you…I didn't want to have to tell you."

"No, he can't be," she said, looking up at him.  "He can't be."

Harry pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her.  She grabbed onto him as if he were the only thing holding her up and sobbed onto his shoulder.  Her body shook with each sob and he felt the warmth of her tears spreading on the fabric of his shirt.  He wanted desperately to tell her that everything was going to be alright.

But that was a lie, and he was finished with lying.

Nothing would ever be alright again and he knew it.

**A/N:  **This is probably the hardest thing I've ever written.  *hugs her Ron* I know it sounds a bit soapish…but it will get better.  Please review!  Kind comments welcomed, constructive criticism appreciated!

Also, tell me what you think of the title…it's a work in progress.  Any suggestions?


End file.
